Reclaiming Shurima's Glory
by ID Zeta
Summary: Azir, the lost Emperor of Shurima, has Ascended. In his wake, his city rebuilt itself, though it is only a shadow of its former glory. Of course, Azir intends to change that. With a thousand years gone by and with the League in his way, can he make that dream a reality? (Begins with Azir's Ascension)
1. Chapter 1: Ascension

Disclaimer: I do not own the League of Legends franchise, nor anything related to it. All characters and locations, except those I create, belong to Riot.

I'm sure the theme of Azir's Ascension is already a subject which has been used to death, but I wanted to take my own crack at it. I've had a story involving Azir brewing for some time, but I've only recently put it into something coherent. So, without further ado, here is my story, Reclaiming Shurima's Legacy. Feedback is much appreciated.

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Chapter 1: Ascension

He stood over the unconscious young woman floating in the Oasis of the Dawn. Only minutes ago, after his miraculous resurrection, he found her sprawled out on the floor of his tomb, a dagger lodged in her back and her blood seeping onto the stone floor. He did not know who this woman was, but one look at her face told him that she had his own blood in her veins. He took her to the Oasis, praying he was in time to save her.

The woman's blood mixed with the crystal waters of the Oasis, swirling and diffusing in almost pretty patterns. She had been floating for several minutes; any longer, and the man knew she could not be saved. His emerald eyes never left her face.

A low groan, a twitch of the eyes. Signs of life. He sighed in relief; his efforts were not in vain. The woman's eyelids opened slowly, revealing beautiful green eyes. She groaned again and tried to rise. At that moment, she realized she was floating upon a pool of cool, slightly-crimson water.

"Do not move," the man said, his voice deep, stern, and powerful, his gaze unwavering. "Your wounds are not yet healed."

The woman turned her head slightly to see who had spoken to her. Through the dim light, she saw a male figure, tall and muscular, adorned with a green headpiece and bracelets which had large green gems embedded into them. His shoulder-length dark hair was coiled into a series of long dread knots.

Memories filtered back into the young woman's mind. She remembered delving into the tomb of Azir, the long-lost Emperor of Shurima with a small party. She watched her fellow mercenaries being torn apart by the traps that awaited the party. She discovered the sealed entrance to the final chamber and the massive serpent statue that stood guard over it.

The young woman then remembered a piercing pain in her back. The noblewoman who hired her and her fellow mercenaries to guide her into the tomb – she struggled to recollect her name – had betrayed her. The small of her back throbbed at the memory. She remembered her venomous last words before the serpent statue came alive and attacked her. She saw the sealed door open, and she saw two figures – a massive, snarling crocodile and a being of pure energy – exit from the chamber. Then, she remembered gradual darkness, coldness, and thoughts of death.

The woman felt strength and life returning to her body as she floated. _The water must be healing me_, she thought. The pain she felt slowly dwindled to nothing. She clenched her fists and flexed. She felt rejuvenated, almost younger; moreover, she felt _stronger_. She shifted herself forward to stand in the pool, confident that she had recovered enough to do so. The man watching her offered no objection.

With her new freedom of movement, she looked at the man closer. Even in the dim light, she saw his well-toned muscles and tan skin. She saw his stern expression, almost like a stony mask of indifference. She _swore_ it looked familiar.

"Are you fully recovered?" the man questioned. His mask faltered ever-so-slightly.

"Feels like it," the young woman replied. She flexed her muscles again, as if testing her claim. After a moment, she asked, "What happened to me? Where am I?"

The man shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "This is the Oasis of the Dawn," he said. "It is a sacred pool, used for healing and rejuvenation rituals." He paused, considering how to answer the woman's other question. "I found you bleeding onto the floor of my tomb. I took you here, hoping to save you."

Something shifted far above the pair. The man heard it, but showed no sign of acknowledgement.

"Well," the young woman said, "I'd say you succeeded." Her gaze shifted to one of the large doorways leading into the chamber of the Oasis. "I was sure I was as good as dead."

"I could not let that happen," the man said. His steely expression faltered slightly.

The young woman eyed her savior, a look of confusion fixed on her face. "Why not?" she questioned after a moment.

The man started to answer, but a bright flash caught his eye. A brilliant beam of golden energy struck the man and enveloped him in a swirling sphere of light. Energy surged through his veins like fire, and he grunted in pain. He was slowly lifted off the ground. His felt his skin begin to burn from the heat that both surrounded and flowed through him.

The young woman shielded her eyes as she watched the spectacle unfold. Rays of golden light shot out of the sphere as the energy swirled faster and faster. The man's groans of pain became cries. The man screamed, and the sphere exploded with light and excess energy. The young woman was pushed back as a wave of force and heat washed over her.

When she looked back, the woman did not see the man she has seen before. Instead, a new figure had taken his place. It was clad in shining golden armor with purple robes underneath. Three purple tassels with gold tips streamed from each of his clawed gauntlets. His armored, bird-like head bowed forward, and bright golden eyes flash opened. They burned with energy, as did the figure's armor. A layer of blue-gray feathers covered where his armor did not.

He touched the ground almost delicately, letting his weight fall gradually. The figure exhaled, letting his arms fall to his sides. His tassels seemed to ignore gravity, as they flowed around as if on their own. "That as more painful than I was told it would be," he mused, his voice even more powerful than before. He eyes moved towards the young woman, who simply stared in awe-induced silence.

The figure's attention shifted when he heard rumbles in the rocks around him. Something was happening above them, and he knew what it was. He could _feel_ it. "Come," he said, extending a hand to the young woman. "We must witness the rebirth of my city."

Confused, the woman took his armored hand and stepped up out of the Oasis. His armor was warm to the touch. Together, the pair walked up a tunnel whose stairs that rebuilt themselves in the presence of the bird-like figure. The young woman felt short compared to him, as he stood more than head-and-shoulders taller than her. She stole glances at him occasionally, but his eyes were fixed ahead of him. Sunlight ahead of them marked the exit of the tunnel.

When the pair stepped out into the light, the young woman gasped at the sight before her. The sand that had engulfed the ruins of Shurima swirled around the city. Streams of it reformed into parts of structures. Steadily, the city rebuilt itself, revealing just how impressive it once was. The two sloped towers now held a massive Sun Disk between them, adorned with the Shuriman crest. Its gold surface glinted in the sunlight. Behind her, columns of a temple repaired themselves to hold up the triangular ceiling.

The bird-like figure continued forward until he reached the edge of the temple platform. From that position, the entire city could be seen. He extended his right hand forward, and from somewhere below, an elegant staff rose up. He clutched it, feeling its familiar weight. Sand swirled around the base, which solidified shortly after, extending the staff to accommodate the figure's new height.

"Perfect," he mused. He planted the staff beside him before raising his other hand up. The remaining sand that swirled around the city retreated to the rocky outcrops leading into it. There, the sand formed rank upon rank of soldiers, each one identical. In a matter of seconds, thousands of soldiers stood at attention, each armed with a spear and a shield.

Satisfied, the figure lowered his arm. He glanced over his shoulder at the young woman. "Come forward," he said, "and gaze upon the glory of Shurima." Slowly, the woman approached the rocky edge. Her wide eyes soaked in the majesty of the city. Her mouth hung slightly agape.

"Amazing…" the woman said, her voice barely a whisper.

"That, it is," the bird-like figure agreed with a nod. He took another step further, letting his clawed foot grip the edge of the platform. He raised his staff high into the air. "Shurima!" he shouted, his powerful voice resonating through the air. "Your Emperor… has returned at last."

The young woman blinked. The _Emperor_? How was this possible? Emperor Azir died over a thousand years ago. Yet, here he stood as something far greater than himself. He was superhuman.

He had Ascended, she realized. She bore witness to one of the most mysterious and powerful rituals in all of Runeterra.

Azir's voice tore the woman from her thoughts. "Come with me, young one," he said, extending a clawed hand to her. "There is much to do, and we have much to discuss."


	2. Chapter 2: An Emperor's Memories

Chapter 2: Memories

Azir spent a lot of time exploring the newly-rebuilt Shuriman Capital. His savior, the young black-haired woman, followed him as he went about. With every few strides, the end of his staff thumped the stone bricks that made up the path. His golden eyes captured every detail. Everything was as the Emperor remembered it to be.

Except for one critical thing. The streets were barren and ghostly quiet.

"What is your name, young one?" Azir asked his companion. Those were the first words he had spoken since he embarked on his little exploration.

The young woman blinked, slightly surprised at the abruptness of the question. "My name's Sivir," she answered.

"_Sivir,_" Azir mused, trying the name on his own tongue. It sounded vaguely familiar. His next question was, "What do you know of your heritage?"

"Not too much," she shrugged. "I asked my parents that same question. All they could ever tell me was that somewhere along the line, there's royalty in my lineage."

Azir said nothing, but nodded. Her answered helped confirm his suspicion about her. He hesitated ever-so-slightly before asking, "How long have I been deceased?"

"The records say about a thousand years, if I remember correctly," Sivir answered quickly.

Azir stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. "A thousand years?" he repeated in disbelief. Had it really been that long? "What happened to my kingdom? To my people?"

Sivir's brow furrowed as she tried to remember the many texts she had read about her heritage. The details were strangely inconsistent and mostly fictitious or conspiracy. What was known for certain was that on one day, the grand empire stood; on the next, it was shattered beyond repair. "I don't know," she answered at last. "The records don't offer anything conclusive."

Azir resumed walking with longer strides, his pace more urgent. He struggled with his own memory; it gradually filtered back to him since his resurrection. He recalled his youth, his adolescence, and the day he claimed his father's place as Emperor of Shurima.

The details of what would have been his last day as a man returned to him. As he walked, he subconsciously summoned a cloud of sand before him. The sand morphed into the forms of people, his former subjects. He had walked this same path on that fateful day. It was almost a case of déjà vu.

Azir rounded a corner and faced the massive twin towers that held the great Sun Disk in place. Even from a distance, its size was impressive, its golden sheen eye-catching. The sand cloud formed the bodies of countless people, Azir's former subjects. Two rows of his Royal Guard separated them from him, their shields forming an imposing protective buffer. The citizens were facing the Sun Disk, or rather what stood beneath it: the Dias of Ascension.

Azir continued forward, the sand cloud moving with him. Figures vanished and reappeared in front of him, every minute detail captured in the sand. It was almost disturbing how accurate they were. He stopped at the base of a massive staircase, the Stairs of Ascension. He remembered climbing these very steps, one-by-one, on his way to the Dias. Now, he scaled them in sets of two, then three, then four. He practically flew to the top. The sand illusions kept pace with him.

He came to a halt at the last step when a sand figure of himself, in his mortal form, rose up. The armor the figure wore appeared almost identical to what Azir currently wore. The illusion was speaking, apparently very boldly and passionately, though it didn't make a sound. Only the wind whirling behind him accompanied the sound of his breathing. Figures of his family – his wife, complete with the bulge of an expected child; his shy young daughter, clutching her mother's hand; his son, soon to become a man himself – as well as a few guards, nobles, and magi, were also present. One particular figure stood far back, out of the limelight, his hood covering his face.

Xerath, Azir's magus. One of the Emperor's closest friends, who happened to also be a slave.

Azir saw his mortal form step onto the Dias of Ascension. He saw himself flinch as the all-powerful beam of energy struck him. He saw himself rise into the air as the divine energy flooded his body.

Xerath pulled his hood away, revealing an ominous expression, and started forward. He spoke a few silent words. The figure of Azir shattered like glass. An unseen force annihilated his family, the nobles, the guards, _everyone_.

The sand illusions dissipated, leaving Azir alone on his knees. His staff lay cast aside, as his clawed hands now gripped the stone platform. What had gone wrong? What caused the Ritual of Ascension to go so tragically awry?

A dark thought entered Azir's mind. Was Xerath behind this? _No, that cannot be,_ the Emperor thought with a shake of his bird-like head. _Xerath would never plot against me._

Or would he?

The sands shifted again, bringing the illusions back to life. The scene replayed itself, but continued where it had previously left off. Azir saw Xerath carefully step onto the Dias to take the Emperor's place. He saw the magus rise into the air as the beam of energy refocused onto him. He saw Xerath's body be all-but torn asunder by the massive power that invaded it. Another blast of unseen energy, and the illusions faded once more.

The message was clear: The Emperor had been betrayed.

Azir's fists shook with the storm of emotions that raged within him. A part of his heart felt torn out of him. Disbelief, outrage, grief – all of those emotions fueled the fire that burned in Azir's eyes. "_Xerath_," the Emperor hissed. "You… treacherous… _SNAKE!_" His fist slammed into the stone beneath him, easily creating a sizable crater.

One question burned in the Emperor's mind: _Why?_ Why would Xerath, one of Azir's most-trusted friends, commit such a treasonous act? He struggled to find the reason behind the act. He thought he knew the magus better than anyone. Apparently, he did not.

Azir's thoughts turned darker still. Xerath had not only robbed him of his Ascension, but of his loved ones, his life, his empire – everything he cherished. The Emperor rose slowly, his fists tight at his sides. _Xerath will pay _dearly_ for his betrayal,_ Azir swore. _His actions will not go unpunished._ He extended his right hand, and his staff returned to it.

He turned to descend the Stairs of Ascension and found Sivir standing a few steps lower than him. "What was all that?" she asked, a look of both confusion and wonder on her face.

"Memories," Azir said grimly. "Both my own and those of Shurima itself. Sivir, what you saw was supposed to be my crowning achievement as a mortal. It was not so." The Emperor began down the Stairs, his posture very composed despite the rage within him. "They did reveal a new purpose to me: I must find the one responsible for the destruction of Shurima… and I must _destroy_ him. Only then will my empire be fully redeemed."

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" Sivir questioned as she followed the Emperor down. "Whoever you're after could be _anywhere_. How do you-"

"I will search the entire world if I must," Azir proclaimed. "There is nowhere I cannot go, and there is nowhere where that _snake_ can hide. I _will_ find Xerath, even if it takes me a thousand years to do so."

"Azir, listen to me," Sivir growled as she stepped in the Emperor's path. "If you're _that_ convinced on doing this, you'll need help. A lot's changed since you died, and you can't just march around wherever you want. Don't you think-"

"And why not?" Azir challenged, his golden eyes narrowing. "I am an Emperor, and furthermore, I am an Ascended. I believe I can do as I please."

"I'm trying to _help_ you, you pretentious-!" Sivir started, her impatience getting the better of her. She stopped herself before saying anything more. She composed herself before saying, "I know someone who should be able to help. With any luck, this 'Xerath' might be where he is as well. I just need you to trust me." Her claim about Xerath was likely false, but she was only trying to convince Azir to come with her at the moment.

Fortunately, it worked. Azir's expression lightened slightly. "Fine," the Emperor growled with a sigh. "If what you say is true, then take me to this person at once."

Sivir sighed in relief. "Alright, then," she said as she started down the Stairs of Ascension once again. As she walked, she said, "It'll take us a few days at best to reach the Institute."

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A/N: Some more characterization for Azir in this chapter. I find it kinda hard to write him as a nice guy, but I like writing him as a pretentious person (bird?). As always, feedback is much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3: The Institute of War

Chapter 3: The Institute of War

It would take six days for Azir and Sivir to travel from the heart of the Shuriman Desert to the Institute of War. Traversing Mogron Pass, one of the only pathways though the Great Barrier, posed a particular challenge. Sivir thought it best to steer clear of civilization until Azir learned more about it, and the Pass had several checkpoints throughout it. Thus, it took three days to cross the mountainous terrain using unconventional paths instead of the usual one.

That extra time allowed Sivir to answer any questions Azir had along the way. She told him about the purpose of the Institute of War and the League of Legends. Azir found the concept to be creative, but he believed it restricted the ability of the various nations to demonstrate their true might. He wisely kept his opinions to himself.

The pair crossed over the crest of a hill, and the sight that awaited Azir made him pause. The hill dipped back down into a shallow bowl-like crater in the earth. Situated at the center of the depression was a massive complex of structures, akin to a small city. An imposing, circular stone wall enclosed the buildings, and four gates allowed entry and exit. Each gate was guarded by two stone statues nearly as tall as the wall behind them; each statue wielded a stone hammer whose head was a large blue crystal. The central building dominated the others in terms of sheer size. The buildings within the wall reminded the Emperor of Shuriman mausoleums in some aspects of their design. Blue crystals topped many of the buildings, as well as segments of the stone wall. The setting Sun caused them to glow.

"Impressive," Azir mused, his golden eyes sweeping over the various buildings. His enhanced eyesight let him see more clearly than his companion, which aided in his observation. "_This_ is the Institute of War?"

"Of course," Sivir said, a small smirk on her face. She had seen Azir's expression before on the faces of new Champions, Summoners, and visitors. "Well, the Institute itself is actually the central building. The smaller ones are for other services, like housing and training. I can show you around once we get inside and… take care of some business." Her voice lowered as she finished her sentence, which earned her a questioning look from Azir. Because she started towards the nearest of the gates, she didn't see it.

The wall and statues seemed deceivingly small from a distance. Up close, the statues stood almost twice as tall as Azir, with the wall itself and the huge stone gates being even taller. As the pair approached the gate, the crystals on the two statues pulsed with blue light. Though the eyes of the stone figures remained fixed forward, Azir felt two pairs of eyes scrutinizing him.

"_Sivir, you have returned at last,_" a feminine voice boomed. The sound seemed to surround Azir, as if coming from all directions. "_You are two days late of your stated time of return._" The Emperor shifted his gaze to the statue on his right. He felt the statue return the look. "_Who is this individual who accompanies you?_"

The Emperor stated to answer, but Sivir cut him off. "I apologize for my lateness, Councilor Kolminye. My… _friend_ here is part of the reason. His name is Azir, and he would like to join the League of Legends as a Champion." Azir shot her a glare, but she took no notice of it.

After a pause, the feminine voice said, "_Enter._" The stone gates creaked open, slowly revealing the complex within. "_Once you direct _Azir_ to the Reflection Chamber, Sivir, see me at once._" Azir scoffed at the dubious tone Councilor Kolminye used to say his name.

"_Great_," Sivir muttered. "She'll probably question me to make sure I'm not lying." She started into complex and turned when she didn't hear the Emperor following. "Come on, Azir. I need to take you to-"

"-To the Reflection Chamber, yes," Azir finished, more than a hint of annoyance in his voice. He caught up with her in a few long strides. "This was not part of our agreement, Sivir."

"I know it wasn't," Sivir said firmly. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but I needed your word before we left Shurima. Besides, becoming a Champion is the only way you can meet Na- er, my friend." She felt a twinge of guilt, but believed her justification to be suitable. Azir gave her a narrow-eyed stare, but said nothing.

The pair walked down the stone road leading to the grand structure that was the Institute of War in silence. Small blue crystals lined the edges of the path. Azir scaled the large set of stairs two steps per stride, which meant Sivir had to nearly run to keep pace with him. The Emperor stepped passed the towering columns and entered the Institute.

The interior of the mausoleum was even more impressive than the exterior. The main lobby was a wide chamber with a tall ceiling, complete with an elegant chandelier of golden metal and blue crystals. The floor, walls, and ceiling were a mixture of white and black marble, all polished to a shine. Robed figures shuffled about, some talking with the colleagues, others clutching thick tomes. All of them were either too busy or in too much of a hurry to notice the duo's entrance. Three doors lead to other branches within the Institute, though the one in the back of the chamber was the largest of the three. The words "Grand Hall" were etched in the stone above the door. A hulking figure – a Minotaur, Azir realized – stood in front of it, his eyes lazily watching the hooded figures.

"The Reflection Chamber is through there," Sivir pointed out. "I'll help you with Alistar." She walked towards the door to the Grand Hall, with Azir following shortly behind.

The Minotaur recognized the warrior woman as she approached. "Sivir!" he greeted loudly. "It's good to see you. Your extended absence had some of us worried." His eyes shifted to the tall, golden-armored falcon beside her. "I see you've brought someone back with you as well."

"I did," Sivir said with a nod and a small smile. "This is Azir. Azir, this is Alistar, one of the many Champions of the League of Legends."

"A pleasure to meet you, Azir," the Minotaur said gruffly as he offered a huge hand.

"You will address me as _Emperor_," Azir replied stiffly, his golden eyes narrowing in disapproval. Alistar snorted as he lowered his hand. Sivir gave the Emperor the look of disgust that the Minotaur was trying to hide.

Alistar looked the Emperor over as he asked, "I assume he wants to join the League?" Sivir nodded in confirmation. "You look like a suitable candidate." The Minotaur turned and pushed the heavy stone doors of the Hall open. "The Reflection Chamber is on the far end of the Great Hall. It's hard to miss. I wish you the best of luck, your _Highness_." His gruff voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Better," Azir mused, ignoring the obvious jab. His staff clicked against the smooth marble as he entered the Grand Hall. Sivir gave Alistar a nod and a smile of appreciation before rushing to catch up with the Emperor.

"What was _that_ about?" Sivir growled. "You can't just boss everyone around in here like you could in Shurima."

"I believe I can," Azir replied sternly as he kept walking. "My name is known throughout the world. These people know who very well who I am."

"Azir, you've been dead for a thousand years," Sivir snapped. "No one here knows you, and those who do think you're little more than a myth. Your empire, your _legacy_, has been forgotten. Or are you simply choosing to ignore that fact?"

The Emperor froze in mid-stride.

Sivir's outburst drew the attention of everyone in the Great Hall. Azir stood rigid, his armored face blank. His eyes burned with energy and fury, and his body adopted a faint golden aura. Wisps of sand, seemingly summoned from thin air, swirled around him. "If I recall correctly," Azir said in a measured tone, "_you_ have to meet with that Councilor, Kolminye." He masked his rage well, though the air pulsed with every word he spoke. "I would _suggest_ you be on your way."

For a few tense seconds, Sivir held her stare, though Azir did not return it. Finally, the warrior growled something between clenched teeth and marched off, leaving the Emperor alone amidst the crowd of Summoners and other personnel. The heavy doors slammed closed behind her.

Azir sighed and lowered his head, the golden aura around him fading away. The sand fell to the floor at his feet in an even ring. _She's not wrong,_ he mentally admitted. After a moment, he continued on, his strides somewhat shorter.

The Grand Hall mimicked the lobby in everything except size; as its name implied, the Hall was much wider and taller. The Hall served as the main gathering place for people in the Institute. Areas were sectioned off on the four corners of the room by short walls. These areas had tables and chairs for people to sit in and do their business. As Alistar had said, a large door awaited Azir on the far side of the room. The words "Reflecting Chamber" were etched above them, along with another message.

"'_The truest opponent lies within,_'" Azir paused to read the words. Grim thoughts entered his mind as he dwelled upon their meaning. "How true," he mused.

As if sensing the Emperor's arrival, the doors creaked open, revealing a dark void and utter silence. Azir hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the dark abyss. The doors clicked shut once he passed through them.

* * *

Sivir stormed by Alistar on her way out, bumping against his side as she went. The Minotaur called out to her, but she took no notice. She marched to her left, towards one of the other wings of the Institute. She shoved the heavy doors open with a grunt, and once they closed behind her, she stopped to collect herself.

Her annoyance with the Emperor's attitude had gotten the best of her in that moment. She knew her words struck a nerve due to Azir's reaction to them. Sivir rubbed her temple and heaved a sigh; she'd have to apologize to him at some point. _I _can't _let my emotions constantly get the best of me_, she mentally groaned.

She started walking towards her destination, Councilor Kolminye's office. He, along with other high-ranking Summoners within the Institute, had office spaces along the sides of the grand building. As she was in the High Council, Kolminye's office was larger than most of the others, and she had a small staff at her disposal.

After a few minutes of walking, Sivir entered the Councilor's quarters. She announced her arrival to the secretary waiting outside the office, who then relayed the message to the Councilor. A moment later, the wooden doors opened, and Sivir entered Kolminye's office. It looked much like any other office; the walls were adorned with various pictures and documents. A bookcase sat against one wall. A desk and two chairs were placed front-and-center.

The Councilor's large seat faced backwards, hiding her appearance with its high back. "Have a seat, Sivir," a polite yet stern voice said. The voice was Kolminye's; she'd heard it before, both in person and through the sentry towers. Sivir complied and occupied one of the available seats. The secretary bowed curtly before exiting and closing the doors, leaving Sivir and the Councilor alone.

Kolminye rotated her seat around to reveal herself. She wore the robes of a High Council member, a long, dark robe with silver accent lines and intricate embroidery. Her yellow-blonde hair cut off just before reaching her shoulders. She had a somewhat round face which only slightly revealed signs of age. Fine wrinkles lined the skin around her sea-green eyes.

"I suppose your expedition into the Shurima desert went rather well," the Councilor began. "You have indirectly brought three new Champions into the League, two of which hail from the ancient empire, and the third was your consort for the expedition. While I have no objections to their inductions, I _would_ like to know some of the details of what happened."

Sivir expected that kind of request. She gave Councilor Kolminye the details of the expedition, of the descent into the Tomb of the Emperors, and of her near-death experience. She spoke of Azir and his actions, both before and after his Ascension. She told her of her choice to take the longer route through Mogron Pass.

"I understand the reason behind your decision," Kolminye said. "Withholding the inevitable culture shock is… a reasonable motive." She leaned forward, her eyes locked on Sivir. "I still have some questions about Azir's resurrection."

"So do I," Sivir sighed, "and I bet Azir does as well. I was going to ask Nasus about it next time I see him. He ought to know the details behind it."

"Most certainly," the Councilor agreed. She sat back in her seat. "That's all I wanted to speak with you about, Sivir. I do have one request for you, however."

An ever-so-slight frown settled on Sivir's face. "And that is?"

"Keep an eye on Azir for me," Kolminye said firmly. "I do not want him causing any trouble with the other Champions. Someone with his amount of power is dangerous, and there are _two_ such individuals in the League. If they were to clash…" Sivir nodded at the implications.

"I'll keep him in line, Councilor," the warrior said. "I'll take him to Nasus once his initiation is complete."

"A wise choice," Kolminye mused. She gestured towards the door, saying, "You are dis-"

The doors suddenly swung open as an armored guard entered. "High Councilor!" he said. "There's an emergency in the Grand Hall. The Reflection Chamber has been damaged!"

"Oh, no," Sivir groaned, fearing the worst.

"Come, quickly," the guard motioned. Councilor Kolminye rose from her seat and followed the guard out, with Sivir in tow shortly after.

* * *

A/N: I apologize for my lateness. My senior year of high school is winding down, which means less and less time to write. I'll update when I can.  
This is my interpretation of the Institute of War. The only real pictures of it provided by Riot show an underground temple-type structure, but I find that image a bit limiting in terms of writing about it. I envision the Institute as a large, open complex where Champions and Summoners can go where they please (well, most of them, anyway). I'm trying my best to keep to the provided lore, particularly concerning the Institute and the League itself, even though Riot dropped it (what were they thinking?)  
As always, feedback is much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4: Reflections

Chapter 4: Reflection

The roar of the crowd was deafening.

Azir climbed the Stairs of Ascension with determined strides, his gaze set firmly on Dias above him. His golden armor, slightly too large and heavy for his well-toned frame, made the task more taxing than it looked. His purple cape snapped in the wind, which blew with unusual force for the given time of the year. The mortal Emperor did not listen to his uneasy priests, who believed the strong winds were an ill omen.

Azir's mind, like his eyes, was set firmly on his prize.

He conquered the final step and met the gaze of those assembled on top with an almost triumphant smile. He greeted the various nobles, magi, and generals with nods of acknowledgement and appreciation, and they returned the gesture in kind. The Emperor's family stood on his left. His wife offered him a gentle smile; his eldest son, a curt nod; his young daughter, a shy wave. He spoke with each of them briefly, accepting their embraces and kindness.

The Emperor sought out a particular magus, whom he recognized even through the identical robes they each wore. He clapped a hand on this magus' shoulder, which earned a grunt of surprise. "This is a day to rejoice, Xerath, yet you seem so depressed," Azir said, noting the magus' furrowed brow.

Xerath cleared this throat and straightened his posture before replying, "It is nothing, Your Majesty. My mind was elsewhere. I apologize." He spoke quickly, as if unnerved by the sudden attention. Azir only patted his shoulder.

"There is no need for apologies, my friend," the Emperor said with a genuine smile. With one last pat, he released Xerath, who stared at Azir for only a moment before bowing his head.

A smirk played across the magus' face. _Perfect_.

Azir turned to face the crowd, an imposing mass of people who filled nearly every nook and cranny of the streets below. The crowd roared again as Azir flourished his staff, a family heirloom and symbol of power. Half of his Royal Guard now stood before the base of the Stairs of Ascension, all of them standing firmly at attention. About a dozen of the Guard stood around the Dias as well.

The wind died down, and with a sharp pound of the Emperor's staff, so too did the crowd.

"Citizens of Shurima," Azir began, his voice powered by his pride, "today is a glorious day, not only for myself, but for this great empire. The sands of the desert encroach on our borders, as do foreign powers. Hostility in neighboring territories has caused unrest within this great city. Some prophets foretell dark times approaching. I seek to prove them wrong.

"With my Ascension, I will restore this grand empire to its prime. I will expand our borders to the horizon, for the world deserves to bask in Shurima's greatness. Only then will there finally be peace, unity, and harmony. That is why I take this step into godhood. It is not for my own personal gain, but for the betterment of this empire."

The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound echoing for miles around. Azir grinned as he continued. "There is one last task must attend to before I take that step, however. It is something I have neglected for some time, as other matters were more pressing." He paused briefly to collect his thoughts. "For many generations, the brunt of the work that keeps this empire running as been on the shoulders of untold numbers of slaves. These souls, destined to live a life they did not make for themselves. It is almost a tradition in this empire, a symbol of status, to own slaves, a tradition in which I myself am a part of.

"That tradition, however, ends today. For here and now, I make my last decree as a mortal man. From this day forward, slavery within the borders of Shurima is a crime, one punishable by death. Each and every slave is now a free man, a full citizen of Shurima. My last act is to give the slaves of Shurima the gift they have long deserved: the gift of freedom!"

Azir thrust his staff into the air at his conclusion, drawing an overwhelming chorus of cheering and applause. Though the Emperor did not see him, Xerath stood rigid, his eyes wide under his hood. His lips, however, were fixed in a frown.

After the crowd had once again died down, Azir said, "Now, we shall begin." He whirled around, his cape flowing to accent to motion. He gave his son his staff, who accepted it with a deep bow. The Emperor stepped onto the Dias of Ascension and turned once again. The Sun Disc, perhaps the embodiment of Shurima's glory, loomed behind him. He stood, eyes closed and head bowed, as the magi began the ritual.

Suddenly, a great beam of light struck the Emperor from behind. He grunted, both in surprise and in strain, as he was lifted off his feet by the light. His arms rose from his sides as divine power flooded his veins. The feeling of attaining godhood was indescribable.

All at once, Azir's vision turned white. The sensations of heat and power abruptly left him.

"_Well, _this _is most interesting._" A new voice boomed from seemingly everywhere. It sounded sinister, alien, and yet… it seemed familiar. With a growl, Azir uttered the voice's owner.

"_Xerath_."

"_A quick deduction. I expected no less from you._"

The scene returned to Shurima, but not to the version Azir knew so well. He found himself on the Dias of Ascension, where the initial memory left off. The fine architecture was broken, shattered by some great force. Sand buried some of the stone streets below where the Emperor stood. Dread filled Azir's heart; _this_ was the aftermath of the ritual.

"_This is your legacy,_" Xerath sneered, "_the result of your ambition and pride: death and destruction._"

"No," Azir countered, "this was _your_ doing, Xerath." The Emperor's voice carried through ghostly wasteland. "Show yourself, you traitorous coward!"

The Emperor felt a presence behind him, and he whirled around, his staff crackling with energy. A humanoid form of raw arcane energy floated before him, with fragments of a shattered sarcophagus shrouding it like armor. A locket on the figure's chest bound the energy within to the stone around it. Arcs of lightning darted from its feet to the floor beneath it.

"What do you think of this new form?" Xerath said. He clenched his fists, charging them with arcane power. "It suits me rather well, I think, aside from this damnable prison those _fools_ trapped me in. The stone fragments closed in around him slightly as he spoke.

"I find it repulsive," Azir snarled, "a twisted variation of _true_ Ascension. You will never have the same power that I possess." Sand swirled around his legs in rapid loops.

"On the contrary," Xerath growled, "I believe I do." Lightning arced off of his body as he charged himself with more power. "Perhaps you would like a demonstration of my new power?"

"ENOUGH!" Azir bellowed as he thrust his staff forward. A bolt of golden energy streaked from it towards Xerath.

It never reached its target.

The scene shifted again to a modest chamber shrouded in darkness. Azir's energy bolt blasted one of the walls apart with ease, leaving a gaping hole where it struck. Panicked cries and shouts filtered into the chamber, and Azir glanced around in confusion as he stepped over the debris. All eyes fell onto him.

His encounter was an illusion, a mirage.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" a Summoner cried. He ran towards Azir, his voice filled with dread and panic. His hood had long since fallen to his shoulders, revealing a head of messy, brown hair. "I-I lost control of the Reflection, and-"

The twin tips of Azir's staff met the Summoner's throat in the blink of an eye. "Cease your blabbering," the Emperor commanded, "and explain to me _exactly_ what you tried to do to me. What is this "Reflection" you speak of?"

"I-It's what the High Council looks at to s-see if a candidate is worthy of becoming a C-champion," the Summoner stuttered. "W-we look into your memories and re-"

"You _what?!_" Azir roared, pressing his staff forward. The Summoner shuffled backwards to avoid getting stabbed by the twin points. "You do not have the right to _invade_ my mind as you just have!"

"Actually, Azir, you gave us that right when you entered the Reflection Chamber." A new voice, feminine and authoritative, met the Emperor's ears. From behind the Summoner stepped a woman clad in ornate robes. Lingering behind her was none other than Sivir, who wore a look of deep concern. "Lower your weapon."

After a moment, Azir removed his staff from the Summoner's neck and planted it at his side with a sharp motion.

"As Summoner Giovann tried to explain, the Reflection is just a formality," the woman explained. She locked her firm gaze with Azir. "We look at a critical moment of your life and examine how it defines you. We examine your actions, your character, to determine whether or not to accept you into the League." Her demeanor suddenly shifted to a troubled look. "Now, Summoner Giovann, could you tell me what happened just a moment ago?"

The Summoner blinked before hanging his head and sighing. "Well, Councilor Kolminye, I… I lost control of Azir's Reflection. Everything was going just as expected until…" His brow furrowed as he struggled to recall the events. "…I was… _overwhelmed_. Just as I was about to enter the Reflection, some _huge_ magical force rushed through me and entered instead."

"Hmm," Kolminye hummed, a hand cupping her chin. "And this 'magical force' took complete control of the Reflection?"

"Only for a minute," Giovann hastily assured the Councilor. "I regained control and stopped the Reflection, but… I couldn't re-activate the stasis spell in time, so… _this_ happened." He gestured to the rubble that was strewn across the pristine Grand Hall.

Kolminye considered the information in thoughtful silence. After a moment, she asked, "What did _you_ see, Azir? What happened after Summoner Giovann lost control?"

Azir stiffened slightly. "I had an encounter with an old _acquaintance_ of mine," the Emperor answered. "I met Xerath, the one who betrayed me and robbed me of my Ascension." Upon seeing Kolminye's furrowed brow, he pressed, "You recognize his name. He's here, isn't he?"

"We admitted Xerath into the League of Legends just a few days prior to your arrival," the Councilor replied evenly. "The Summoners weren't able to do the usual Reflection with him due to his… _unusual_ nature. The Summoners deemed him worthy; it was not my decision to make."

"Regardless, admitting him here was a mistake," Azir growled. "He would sooner destroy an institution such as this than serve it."

"That's an awfully bold claim," Kolminye quipped. "How do you know he will?"

The Emperor started towards the Councilor, but Sivir stepped between the two and forced Azir back. "He destroyed my empire," he snarled, "and I would not doubt he would do the same to this Institute."

Councilor Kolminye crossed her arms, her stern expression unchanged. "Summoner Giovann, do you believe Azir is worthy of joining the League, disregarding this little incident?" she asked.

It took a moment for the young Summoner to register the question. "Considering what I saw, High Councilor, I'd say he is," he said tentatively. "Aside from his grudge… he is noble. He means well, even if his methods are… harsh." His gaze drifted to the floor.

"Then I suppose it's decided," Kolminye shrugged. Her arms returned to her sides. "Welcome to the League of Legends, Azir." She bowed, as Summoners are supposed to do when addressing a Champion. Giovann quickly followed suit. When she rose, the Councilor said, "There are a few more formalities to attend to before you can actually participate in the League. Sivir can give you those details. If you'll excuse me, I have some repair work to issue." With that, Councilor Kolminye turned and exited the Grand Hall. Shortly afterwards, business returned to normal in the Hall.

Azir relaxed slightly as he let his shoulders slump a little. "If Xerath is a member of the League, that makes the task of dealing with him much easier," he mused.

"Actually, Azir, you can't," Sivir said uneasily. The sudden glare from Azir made her take an unconscious step back. "Champions are strictly forbidden from harming other Champions outside of the Fields of Justice, on the threat of expulsion. Now come on, you have to get yourself fully registered."

"I already grow tired of these 'formalities'," Azir grumbled to himself with a shake of his head.

He followed Sivir to another large chamber. There, a series of Summoners ran him through the process of registration, which involved (much to the Emperor's dismay) determining how heavily to handicap his immense power during matches and creating an exact magical replica of him that could be copied and used by other Summoners.

Throughout the process, Azir's eyes were narrowed. His mind was looking into the future. He could bear all of this nonsense if it meant getting to Xerath. Expulsion would be the least of his worries.

* * *

A/N: My mind is completely scattered at the moment. My last week of school is coming up, which is most to blame for my lack of motivation and ideas. I rushed the ending of this chapter; I wanted to get something, _anything_, out to you guys. I might brush it up later. Also, I made a small change to the ending of the last chapter. Nothing too major, it just adds some consistency.


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